


First Lessons

by Coalmine301



Series: Whumptober 2020 [18]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Asshole Qui-Gon Jinn, Begining of a Panic Attack, Fear of Death, Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Not Qui-Gon friendly, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Perceptive Quinlan, Platonic Cuddling, Poor Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:07:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27087598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coalmine301/pseuds/Coalmine301
Summary: It was only after Bandomeer that Qui-gon really started to see just how much potential Kenobi truly possessed. He was still wild, unrefined. But just like any varactyl, all the boy needed was some good taming to reach that potential.And so he took the wild Obi-wan under his wing, determined to sculpt a good Jedi out of this stubborn boy.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Quinlan Vos, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Tholme & Quinlan Vos
Series: Whumptober 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908538
Comments: 32
Kudos: 256





	1. Calm

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Whumptober prompt "Panic Attack"

The moment Qui-gon lay eyes on the redhead child he knew he would be a problem. The boy was wild, pulling pranks and stunts seemingly without a care. Not to mention so attached to his crechemates. 

And so Qui-gon avoided this child, this Obi-wan Kenobi. He wasn’t ready to take another padawan after Xanatos. And even if he was he certainly wouldn’t choose 

He pitied whichever poor Master took the boy under their wing.

Years passed and hardly any master even glanced the redhead’s way. 

He was trying to make himself noticed, that much was clear with how many demonstration duels he attended. And even Qui-gon had to admit the boy had quite a bit of potential if only molded in the right way. 

But much more concerning was the amount of rage and fear that Obi-wan carried within him. Both of which were blatantly obvious when one were to watch him spar.

It was unlikely anyone would want to pick him.

Not all younglings could be Jedi, after all. And if it was the will of the Force for Kenobi to be a farmer then so be it. 

It was only after Bandomeer that Qui-gon really started to see just how much potential Kenobi truly possessed. He was still wild, unrefined. But just like any varactyl, all the boy needed was some good taming to reach that potential. 

And so he took the wild Obi-wan under his wing, determined to sculpt a good Jedi out of this stubborn boy.

The first thing Qui-gon did with his new apprentice was take him into an aside room where they won't be bothered. There he handed the redhead a small, odd device. With encouraging murmurs and steady hands he wrapped the boy’s own hands around it.

“It is our duty as Jedi to uphold the peace,” the long haired man narrated. “To do it we need several skills: strength, agility, communication, and ingenuity. But chief among them is the ability to remain calm with a clear head under pressure.”

With a quick check to make sure the boy’s grip was tight enough, Qui-gon released his hold on the device. 

“M-Master, what is this?” Obi-wan asked, staring down at the crude device he held in his hands. Not many made these devices anymore, and so it was tricky finding an actual functioning one like Qui-gon. Luckily, he had connections...

“It’s a deadman’s switch,” the Master replied casually despite the gravity behind those words. “This one has been rigged to be compatible with explosives.”

Qui-gon could see the exact moment the realization dawned on Obi-wan. Blue eyes widened with horror and pale hands tightened even more on the metal frame. “Master?”

“It’s going to be ok, padawan,” Qui-gon murmured encouragingly. “Just don’t let go and everything will be fine.”

Slowly he made his way towards the door. It wasn’t that he was fearful of the potential blast (the switch wasn’t hooked up to anything, though it didn’t seem like Obi-wan knew that) just that he wanted to observe how his new padawan would fare on his own. 

Already the boy’s breaths were coming in frantic gasps, his feet seemingly rooted to the ground. “Master I- I can’t do this!” Moisture glimmered in the corner of too wide eyes. 

“It’s ok, Padawan,” Qui-gon repeated, nudging open the door behind him. “I’ll be back in one hour. I have faith in you.” And then he quickly slipped out.

The door shut behind him with a soft click.


	2. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-gon has slightly more chill... if drugging and then dumping your very young padawan into the middle of a ghetto counts as "more chill".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Whumptober prompt "Lost"

Obi-wan slowly opened his eyes only to find himself somewhere not in his bed at the Temple. Instead of a comfortable mattress he was sprawled across hard duracrete, half propped up against a random building. 

With a soft groan he sat up, trying to get a good look at his surroundings. To the left and right of him was dark, dirty alley. Neither looked more promising than the other.

Carefully the padawan stood up, his sore body crying in protest. For a moment his vision blurred and he had to lean against the wall to remain upright. 

Quickly, the redhead checked himself over. Obi-wan’s lightsaber was still at his hip, thank the Force. It was just odd he was still wearing his belt… and boots… and tunic… and robe. Didn’t he change before going to bed? Come to think of it Obi-wan couldn’t seem to remember falling asleep.

When Obi-wan focused his senses he could feel the slightest bit of drug residue in his system. Apparently someone wanted him here. For a reason.

A quick glance was enough to tell him that he most definitely did not want to stay in some random alley in mid-lower coruscant any more than he had to. So he picked a random direction and stumbled along. 

After not even five minutes the buildings started blurring together. Each one was uninviting grey and smeared in filth that Obi-wan didn’t like to think about. Every once in a while there would be some brightly colored yet rather profane spray paint splattered across a random surface.

It wasn’t long before he encountered people. Drunks and addicts slumped against the walls looking more dead than alive. Others watched him walk by with beady, distrustful eyes.

Obi-wan could feel hundreds of eyes on his padawan braid, almost boring holes through it with their disgruntled vision. Not many lived too long on Coruscant without knowing what that meant. His braid, a symbol of achievement and pride, was now a target.

He could hear energized whispers spread through the light cluster as he passed. A Jedi apprentice, even one as scrawny and useless as himself, could make quite the ransom. 

The young teen tugged his robe closer to himself as if that would offer some sort of protection against this hostile environment.

“Hey, kid!” 

Obi-wan nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice. He whirled to find an odd humanoid standing there, a hungry gleam in his eye. “Wanna buy some deathsticks.”

“Um, no, n-no thank you,” he replied before quickly hurrying on. 

It wasn’t long after that he finally tumbled out of the alley and onto the main street. With flashing neon lights and pedestrians of all sorts milling about, this one seemed much more inviting. Yet no less distrustful of Jedi kind. He’d have to be careful. 

Obi-wan glanced around, hoping to catch sight of the Temple’s familiar silhouette. No such luck. He’d have to find a way home some other way. 

Only problem was these people were very unlikely to give some random teen directions. And Obi-wan had no idea where he was.

If only Master Qui-gon was here. He would know what to do. He always did.

Unseen, a behemoth of a man watched the redhead from the shadows. Twin blue eyes watched the padawan as he scurried about.

Every move he made, the bearded shadow followed not far behind. Far enough away to remain undetected but close enough to keep an eye on his apprentice. 

So far Obi-wan seemed to be doing pretty well. To a Force sensitive, the boy’s fear was almost palpable. But to a null he managed to hide it quite well.

Perhaps they were making progress after all.


	3. Stay Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-gon tries to teach his young padawan how to fend off hypothermia... in his usual, terrible manner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Whumptober prompt "Hypothermia"

Never before had Obi-wan felt so cold. He could feel this chill all the way in his bone marrow as he shivered miserably.

“M-master, I’m so-o cold,” he whimpered.

Behind the glass Qui-gon simply watched. “You’ll have to draw heat from elsewhere with the Force,” he replied calmly. “You’ve done it before.”

Small-scale, yes, the closet was much smaller than this chamber now. And even then it hadn’t been this cold.

Obi-wan had to succeed. He had to prove he could be the ideal padawan his master held in his mind. He had to make Qui-gon proud. Even if just this once. 

But it was so cold. 

It was… getting… harder to…. think… right...

His eyelids shut before he could stop them.

* * *

Qui-gon sighed. Yet another failed attempt. 

They would have to wait an hour or so for Obi-wan to warm up before starting again.

Obi-wan was feebly curled up on the ground when he entered, hardly shivering anymore. The elder jedi bent down and scooped the boy up with hardly any effort.

The redhead let out a soft whimper and buried his face in the front of Qui-gon’s creamy tunic. And for a moment Qui-gon felt something in his chest flutter as he looked down at the child in his arms.

Obi-wan’s pale, freckled skin seemed even more wane than before. In fact his lips were starting to turn blue again. Not to mention how skinny he suddenly felt in Qui-gon’s arms.

Perhaps they’d try again after dinner. 

At the mouth hallway Qui-gon paused to check both ways. All clear. Good. With that the master took off in a casual yet brisk pace. 

They weren’t really supposed to be down here. After all, the freezing chamber was mostly to cool and store frozen meats and foods- not people. But Qui-gon had found it was a surprisingly effective way of teaching to fend off hypothermia.

Once more he glanced down at the tired boy in his arms.

Qui-gon truly didn’t enjoy having to go through this time and time again. But this was a skill Obi-wan simply must learn (what would he do if he got stuck on an ice planet?). And experience was the best teacher.

Yet Obi-wan just wasn’t getting it. No matter how many rounds they’d try in the freeze-chamber the teen just couldn’t seem to figure the skill out.

But he’d figure it out. They all did.

* * *

“M-master, I’m so-o cold.”

Obi-wan glanced down to meet Anakin staring back with an absolutely miserable expression. Being a native to a desert planet, the blonde never dealt with the cold very well. 

“I know, Ani. I know,” he muttered, pulling his new padawan closer against his side. 

The duo had been cruising through a seemingly idle patch of space, only to be ambushed by a crew of pirates. With no other choice they booked it to the nearest planet in a desperate attempt to escape.

Unfortunately said planet was little more than a big ball of ice. Double unfortunately, they had crashed on the landing so they were now stuck here.

And so all Obi-wan could do was activate the Temple distress beacon and wait. The trick was finding a way not to freeze to death before help arrived.

At least the pirates stopped bothering them. 

Anakin’s teeth were chattering now, even with the thick Jedi robe pulled around his small form. Obi-wan’s heart twisted at the sight. Without a thought he took off his own robe, wrapping it around the blonde’s small form.

Blue eyes looked up to meet his in confusion. “W-what about you?”

“I’ll be fine, Anakin. You don’t need to worry about me,” Obi-wan lied. 

To his mild surprise Anakin suddenly crawled into his lap, short arms wrapping around his sides. Anakin pressed his face on Obi-wan’s chest to complete the hug. The boy’s form a welcome warmth against the chilling cold, and so Obi-wan wrapped his own arms around the small form. 

For a moment the new team just sat there, snuggled into each other's embrace. 

And Obi-wan knew they'd make it out of this. Together.


	4. Something's Not Quite Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People start catching on...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Whumptober prompt "Drugged"

It’s almost ridiculous how easy it is to slip the drug into the boy’s food. By this point Qui-gon would have expected at least a little apprehension, but Obi-wan is just so trusting. Almost too trusting. 

Perhaps trust was a good thing. Qui-gon didn’t particularly want yet another padawan fighting back the entire time. Not like Xanatos had been.

He takes a chance to look down at the redhead in his arms, young face slack with sleep. The too easy trust is a problem, one that can be fixed, but everything else looked fairly promising so far.

Perhaps this boy is the one Qui-gon could sculpt a good Jedi out of.

As Qui-gon walked down the Temple hall, Obi-wan’s limp form in his arms, other Jedi give him casual nods as they pass by. In their eyes he’s just carrying his tired apprentice back home. It’s late enough to pass as such.

And so no one moves to stop him.

* * *

“Obi-wan?”

The younger padawan turns to face him, surprise briefly flashing across his pale face. “Quin?”

“What are you doing down here?” The kriffar asked. Usually only shadows found their way to Coruscant's crime-laden lower levels. He didn’t need to Force to tell something was definitely wrong.

“I, um, I got lost,” Obi-wan tried, flashing an embarrassed grin.

The disguise was paper-thin and Quinlan saw right through it. “On the lower levels?”

His friend, whom Quinlan remembered being quick with a response, hesitated. “Well, you know how lost I tend to get, Quin.”

True, Obi-wan had gotten himself ridiculously lost many times in their creche years. But he had always stayed inside the Temple.

He was about to ask again when he felt a familiar presence glide up beside him. “Obi-wan?” The mild surprise and concern in Tholme’s voice is evident. “Is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” the redhead replied. “‘S all good. I just got lost, is all. You don’t need to worry about me.”

‘He’s lying,’ Quinlan sent his Master through their bond. ‘Something’s wrong.’

‘I thought so too,’ the grizzled Jedi replied. 

“If I may, Obi-wan, would you allow us to escort you back to the Temple? The lower levels aren’t exactly Jedi friendly,” Tholme offered diplomatically. 

Something almost yearning flashed across Obi-wan’s azure gaze and for a second Quinlan thought he would actually agree. But then a deep baritone rumbled through the alley. “That won’t be necessary, Master Tholme.” 

Immediately Obi-wan straightened his spine at the sound of his mentor’s voice. There was a new tenseness in his shoulders and his jaw was partially clenched. 

Something in Quinlan’s gut twisted. 

“Thank you for the offer, but I have it from here,” Qui-gon continued.

“Are you sure, Jinn?” Tholme asked. 

“I’ve been down here before,” Qui-gon replied. “I know my way around.”

For a moment it looked like tholme wanted to argue. He chewed on his cheek, an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

“Very well,” the grizzled human replied. “I bid you safe travels.”

Immediately Quinlan felt a spark outage flare up.

‘Patience,’ Tholme sent through the bond. ‘We don’t have enough proof to accuse him of anything. Yet.’ 

“Thank you,” Qui-gon replied curtly with a quick bow that they returned. And with that he and Obi-wan both turned and left.

Quinlan couldn’t help but notice the heavy arm draped over Obi-wan’s shoulders. It wasn’t a friendly touch, if the way Obi-wan resisted leaning into it was any indication. Instead it only seemed controlling. 

He shared a quick glance with Tholme, seeing a similar uncertainty in his master’s right eye.

Something was very wrong.


End file.
